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Salute to a friend

woodsman

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Salute to a friend, squeaky the chipmunk:

It’s been many seasons since my friend and I shared time. Squeaky wasn’t your average chipmunk, he wasn’t my pet we were true pals. Days or weeks could go by before I returned to the cabin deep in the wood, but he would be their to greet me always. He knew the sound of my truck, he knew me at a glance, even before I was in visual range I could hear his squeaking welcome. He would wait patently atop his vantage point, a stack of flat granite rocks at the corner of the cabin not wanting to be exposed to birds of prey. Once I got close enough to the safety of cabin he would climb me like a tree, nuzzle my neck and dart in and out of my shirt pockets.

We shared many good times, eating lunch together was a routine, squeaky even had this own dish and favorite spot at the picnic table, he was also selfless, I would often find returned nuts in my hiking boots as a surprise in the morning. His absolute favorite was the walks we took, he understood the gesture of me tapping my pocket and would climb in. He would chirp with joy as we walked, this also made the other rival chipmunks rather angry as we pasted thru their territories. I got to understand his different vocalizations, rival threat, danger, or just the curious alert but the best was the squeaking which was directed at me.

I’m convinced he was looking out for me, he would stand guard at his vantage point atop the stacked rocks at the corner of the cabin and alert until I acknowledged him. Once done he would seek safety and stop. He and I sort of became deep woods lore, the occasional appalachian trail hiker slightly of compass would notice my furry pocket pal upon meeting. I certainly got some strange looks, some even asked If they could give my pal a treat, he grew rather fond of the stale bagels most hikers carry.

Sadly, after three years with my pal I returned to the cabin and their was no greeting, I placed his favorite snack, planters peanuts, atop his vantage point and called to him, my calls went unanswered.

True story:
 

MaggieD

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Salute to a friend, squeaky the chipmunk:

It’s been many seasons since my friend and I shared time. Squeaky wasn’t your average chipmunk, he wasn’t my pet we were true pals. Days or weeks could go by before I returned to the cabin deep in the wood, but he would be their to greet me always. He knew the sound of my truck, he knew me at a glance, even before I was in visual range I could hear his squeaking welcome. He would wait patently atop his vantage point, a stack of flat granite rocks at the corner of the cabin not wanting to be exposed to birds of prey. Once I got close enough to the safety of cabin he would climb me like a tree, nuzzle my neck and dart in and out of my shirt pockets.

We shared many good times, eating lunch together was a routine, squeaky even had this own dish and favorite spot at the picnic table, he was also selfless, I would often find returned nuts in my hiking boots as a surprise in the morning. His absolute favorite was the walks we took, he understood the gesture of me tapping my pocket and would climb in. He would chirp with joy as we walked, this also made the other rival chipmunks rather angry as we pasted thru their territories. I got to understand his different vocalizations, rival threat, danger, or just the curious alert but the best was the squeaking which was directed at me.

I’m convinced he was looking out for me, he would stand guard at his vantage point atop the stacked rocks at the corner of the cabin and alert until I acknowledged him. Once done he would seek safety and stop. He and I sort of became deep woods lore, the occasional appalachian trail hiker slightly of compass would notice my furry pocket pal upon meeting. I certainly got some strange looks, some even asked If they could give my pal a treat, he grew rather fond of the stale bagels most hikers carry.

Sadly, after three years with my pal I returned to the cabin and their was no greeting, I placed his favorite snack, planters peanuts, atop his vantage point and called to him, my calls went unanswered.

True story:

Bless your heart. I hope he's just on vacation.
 

Captain America

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Awwww....

I believe this is the first time I have ever gotten misty-eyed over a damn chipmunk.

I hope your friend is okay. What's the average lifespan of a chipmunk? (Alvin notwithstanding.)
 

Ikari

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In other news, my friend Hawky the Hawk seems rather satiated at this moment.
 

woodsman

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Awwww....

I believe this is the first time I have ever gotten misty-eyed over a damn chipmunk.

I hope your friend is okay. What's the average lifespan of a chipmunk? (Alvin notwithstanding.)

I believe the eastern spices has about a 3 to 5 years life span. It’s been some years since he went missing but I still have the last can of planters peanuts purchased for him. The can Is now empty because I put out the nuts for months. That now rusting tin is a reminder of our friendship. I know it sounds odd, this friendship, but It wasn’t training on my part, It just came about. If I was to guess It’s the secluded nature of this cabin and wildlife have little fear of humans. Once a bond was started, It just built even though It’s out of character for chipmunks.

It’s not the first time I had a bond with wildlife, I once found an owl with an injured wing. I set the protruding bone and tapped the wing up the best I could. His home was in the beams/logs of the overhang of my cabin for two months. I would feed this owl with mice I caught in traps ( no shortage of those) In and around my cabin. The cool part was when he started flying again, he would dart across a field and land on me. I could never pat him like a parrot, he was totally hands off but there was a bond.
 

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There is a little WPA shack in a sheltered spot in Zig Zag Canyon behind Mt Hood. Decades ago it was locked, but folks kept breaking the lock to seek shelter (it's near the Crest Trail). So the FS decided to leave it unlocked, provided a broom and a sign for folks to clean up when they leave. They also provided a journal where hikers could sign in and jot a few notes.

The very first entry noted the presence of the being come to be known as Quagmire the One Eyed Rat. At first the journal notes his name as Quagmire. He would come out when darkness fell and raid the packs of his sleeping house guests. A few months later one of those guests was awake and nailed him in the eye with a slingshot. But he wasn't done. It wasn't until years later that the sightings stopped.

The odd thing is that the life span of the common rat is only 2 years. Quagmire the One Eyed Rat appears to be the Methuselah of the rat world.

True story.
 

woodsman

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There is a little WPA shack in a sheltered spot in Zig Zag Canyon behind Mt Hood. Decades ago it was locked, but folks kept breaking the lock to seek shelter (it's near the Crest Trail). So the FS decided to leave it unlocked, provided a broom and a sign for folks to clean up when they leave. They also provided a journal where hikers could sign in and jot a few notes.

The very first entry noted the presence of the being come to be known as Quagmire the One Eyed Rat. At first the journal notes his name as Quagmire. He would come out when darkness fell and raid the packs of his sleeping house guests. A few months later one of those guests was awake and nailed him in the eye with a slingshot. But he wasn't done. It wasn't until years later that the sightings stopped.

The odd thing is that the life span of the common rat is only 2 years. Quagmire the One Eyed Rat appears to be the Methuselah of the rat world.

True story.


If I’m correct you are trying to suggest that my friendship, and pal is fictitious. I assure you It is not. I can’t give out personal information nor want to for obvious reasons but my location was filmed three times for documentary use with wildlife by National Geographic. If you doubt this, just PM me and I will give you the three films and location.

When I say something is true I mean it….
 

MaggieD

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I think you've misread CLOWNBOY. It sounds as if his story is true as well. Perhaps with some folklore.

I completely believe your beautiful stories. I read them both to my Tom, and they both brought tears to our eyes. You are an exceptionally kind and sensitive human being. We like to believe we both are as well.

God bless. Beautiful stories shared. Thank you.
 

Captain America

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If I’m correct you are trying to suggest that my friendship, and pal is fictitious. I assure you It is not. I can’t give out personal information nor want to for obvious reasons but my location was filmed three times for documentary use with wildlife by National Geographic. If you doubt this, just PM me and I will give you the three films and location.

When I say something is true I mean it….

All due respect Woodsman but perhaps you should go back and re-read Clownboy. For the life of me I cannot figure how you came away from his post thinking that.
 

woodsman

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All due respect Woodsman but perhaps you should go back and re-read Clownboy. For the life of me I cannot figure how you came away from his post thinking that.



Yes, I did re-read it and you are correct, I’m unclear how I perceived it in a bad way, I may have been overly distracted. Anyways apologias to clowboy.
 

clownboy

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If I’m correct you are trying to suggest that my friendship, and pal is fictitious. I assure you It is not. I can’t give out personal information nor want to for obvious reasons but my location was filmed three times for documentary use with wildlife by National Geographic. If you doubt this, just PM me and I will give you the three films and location.

When I say something is true I mean it….

No. I added my own true story that was in the same vein as yours. Quagmire the One Eyed Rat and the WPA cabin behind Mt Hood absolutely existed. I did the Crest Trail in 1972 (then going from Mexico to Canada), right after I came home from the service. My way of decompressing.
 
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woodsman

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No. I added my own true story that was in the same vein as yours. Quagmire the One Eyed Rat and the WPA cabin behind Mt Hood absolutely existed. I did the Crest Trail in 1972 (then going from Mexico to Canada), right after I came home from the service. My way of decompressing.


The AP runs very close to my cabin, I’ve had some interesting encounters with some of the hikers, the ones coming from the South have some great stories. I always keep some extra provisions on hand to pass out if needed. Each year I purchase a case or two of Military MRE’s and they can go rather fast If a group comes thru. Personal I have never felt the need to hike for that long of a distance, I’ll do overnight trips but being around my cabin works for me.
 

DiAnna

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Salute to a friend, squeaky the chipmunk:

It’s been many seasons since my friend and I shared time. Squeaky wasn’t your average chipmunk, he wasn’t my pet we were true pals. Days or weeks could go by before I returned to the cabin deep in the wood, but he would be their to greet me always. He knew the sound of my truck, he knew me at a glance, even before I was in visual range I could hear his squeaking welcome. He would wait patently atop his vantage point, a stack of flat granite rocks at the corner of the cabin not wanting to be exposed to birds of prey. Once I got close enough to the safety of cabin he would climb me like a tree, nuzzle my neck and dart in and out of my shirt pockets.

We shared many good times, eating lunch together was a routine, squeaky even had this own dish and favorite spot at the picnic table, he was also selfless, I would often find returned nuts in my hiking boots as a surprise in the morning. His absolute favorite was the walks we took, he understood the gesture of me tapping my pocket and would climb in. He would chirp with joy as we walked, this also made the other rival chipmunks rather angry as we pasted thru their territories. I got to understand his different vocalizations, rival threat, danger, or just the curious alert but the best was the squeaking which was directed at me.

I’m convinced he was looking out for me, he would stand guard at his vantage point atop the stacked rocks at the corner of the cabin and alert until I acknowledged him. Once done he would seek safety and stop. He and I sort of became deep woods lore, the occasional appalachian trail hiker slightly of compass would notice my furry pocket pal upon meeting. I certainly got some strange looks, some even asked If they could give my pal a treat, he grew rather fond of the stale bagels most hikers carry.

Sadly, after three years with my pal I returned to the cabin and their was no greeting, I placed his favorite snack, planters peanuts, atop his vantage point and called to him, my calls went unanswered.

True story:

Incredibly sweet story. Rodents, unfortunately, don't have a long life span to begin with, but I really love the little critters. We have squirrels, each with a different personality. Most are standoffish, but there have been some that came up to our feet hoping for a peanut or two. They are so adorable. I'm sorry your hiking buddy went missing. It's sad to lose track of a friend.

Thank you for the story, even if it made me a bit misty-eyed.
 

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Thanks so much for memorializing your striped rodent friend. At the minimum of the three years he hung with you, he had a good run of it in eastern chipmunk terms. And in such a long life he probably fathered lots more little Squeakys to populate the surrounding forest. Whether he tottered off and just went to sleep forever (rare in nature), never made it back out of hibernation, or produced a nourishing meal for another creature out there trying to make a living, he had a good life and a natural passing.
 
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